Disgusting
the way your hands feel down my back
as if they are made of sand paper,
giving me a rash that just won't go away
i feel hopeless
each scream i make goes unheard
each movement i make only makes you tighten your grip
until i can no longer breath and everything goes blurry

Disgusting
even after it's over
i still feel your tight grip around my arms
invisible hands linger and no matter how many times i shower
i cannot wash this unclean feeling from my body
i'm trapped inside a shell
thats covered in the traumatic memory of you

Disgusting
even in my dreams
you lurk around every corner
turning the moments that once made me happy
into something sinister and more horrific
i don't when ill be able to breath again without feeling so
*Disgusting

A past long forgotten,
lost within the turmoil of a human mind.
Buried deep beneath run-on sentences and ideas.  
Left behind for good,
until one day i'll sift through.

It's been awhile
since we talked,
and even then
no words were spoken.
nothing needed to be said
because your presence
bore it all.
Like the way
cigarette smoke
clings to your clothes
and no matter
how many times
you wash them,
the smell fades very little,
your mark has been
left untouched.
Addiction is a curse
and yet you wear it like
the fancy suit
you rented
for your sisters wedding.
no worries flicker
Across your eyes
because you know
all to well
that in the end
nothing will matter.
You've been here
before in a dream.
You witnessed
the suit being destroyed
by cigarette smokes
and the unspoken truth
and still you allow
life to pass you by.
no effort to go forth
and make change.

It's similar to a pill,
one that's just too
big to swallow.
Yet, you force yourself
to drag it down past your lips.
Like these words that seek
escape from your mind,
you hold them back against
the steal bars your
brain has created.
Willing with every
inch of your body
to not let go and expose
an empty vessel.
There is no stone cold heart
nor a warm blood filled one
just space consumed by the dark.
Emptiness isn't completely
empty as nothing
completely fills a void.
Alcohol and the bliss form drugs
only has a hold for so long
until those same words
press harder against your lips.
Needing to see the light of day.
Wanting to flee this
hole that nothing can fill.
Yearning for the
compassion from
another and yet
you still cannot feel.
Words you want to say fall flat
as emotion that should
accompany them is vacant.
You cannot win this fight
against yourself.
Nor can someone else fight
on your behalf.
Just push on and pray
the sun peaks through clouds,
just enough to breath.

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.